


live where the sun comes out

by vlieger



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlieger/pseuds/vlieger





	live where the sun comes out

"Wardo," said Chris, blinking. "Are you-- shit, there isn't a meeting today, I'm positive-- is there?" Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. If this whole stupid Dustin thing was starting to impact on his job, he was going to kill Dustin-- he was way past proportional response-- and book himself some well-earned vacation time. 

"Would you please," said Wardo tightly and tremulously and emphatically, "Tell Mark to stop sending my employees birthday gifts and anniversary gifts and wedding gifts and 'congratulations, you've just had a baby' gifts. It's kind of freaking them out."

"He's," said Chris. "He's sending your employees gifts?"

"It escalated when sending me gifts didn't work," said Wardo.

"Shit," said Chris, palming at his face. "Did you-- did you ask him to stop?"

Wardo raised his eyebrows. "That would negate the whole not talking to him or acknowledging his existence thing."

"But," said Chris slowly, "You're here."

"To see you," said Wardo, "On a completely unrelated matter. I'm actually in California to meet with some other investors. I figured Mark would be too shut in his office to notice."

"Okay," said Chris, glancing over Wardo's shoulder, "You may want to prepare for the eventuality that that isn't the case."

"What?" said Wardo, just as Mark pushed into Chris's office. 

"Wardo," he said. 

Wardo tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling in a wrung-out _why_ kind of gesture. 

"Mark," said Chris, "Could you maybe-- "

"No," said Mark. He stopped just inside the door and fixed his eyes on Wardo. 

"Hey," said Dustin, pushing his way in after Mark, "I saw Mark leave his office, which is an occasion monumental enough to-- holy shit, Wardo." 

"Hey, Dustin," said Wardo. 

Mark's mouth tightened. 

"Okay, look," said Chris, "Wardo, maybe you should go, I'll call you later and we can meet up to talk about this. Mark, seriously, what have I told you about hacking and harassment and just generally anything of an _illegal_ nature? Dustin." He stopped. Dustin looked at him, eyes wide and accused. Chris rolled his own. "Just keep it quiet, please."

"Okay," said Wardo. "Yeah." 

Dustin said, "But I didn't do anything!"

Mark said, "It's not illegal if it's on the office's public calendar or announcements board."

Chris wondered briefly where his priorities had gone when all he felt was relief. "Okay," he said. "The harassment thing still stands, though."

"I was just trying to be-- nice," said Mark.

Wardo opened his mouth. He looked for half a moment like he was seriously considering saying something, then closed it again.

Chris drummed his fingers on his desk in the ensuing silence. 

Dustin started talking loudly and kind of desperately, about-- Chris tuned in for a moment-- the price of drinks in nightclubs, okay. Mark wasn't listening, staring openly and intensely, brow furrowed, at Wardo, whose arms were folded and whose eyes were fixed resolutely on the wall, cheeks flushed in acute awareness of Mark's gaze.

*

As soon as Wardo left, whisking past Mark with a pointedly averted gaze and Dustin in his wake looking simultaneously incredibly amused and hideously uncomfortable, Mark stepped forward and said, "I want to come."

"Come where," said Chris wearily. 

"When you meet up with Wardo," said Mark. 

Chris sighed. "Mark, I really don't think that's the greatest idea."

Mark shrugged. "He can't ignore me forever. I'm coming."

"You know, I'm pretty sure if anyone could manage it, it's you and Wardo," said Chris. 

"I don't know what you mean by that," said Mark. "Tell me when you're going."

"What if I don't?" said Chris, folding his arms. 

Mark stared at him blankly. 

"Right," said Chris. "I want you to know this is purely in the interest of minimising the _illegal activity_ around here."

"Whatever," said Mark. 

"One day the phrase 'illegal activity' will scare you as much as it scares me," said Chris. "As your head of PR, I consider it my honour-bound duty to achieve this."

Mark blinked. "You should stop hanging around with Dustin so much," he said. "You're starting to sound like him."

"Mark," said Chris, "You'll understand if I don't take any advice on friendship from you seriously. Especially because you hang around Dustin just as much as I do."

"I don't see why not," said Mark. "It's not like I actually have much choice in the nature of people I'm surrounded by. Which I'd like to point out is a little upsetting. I am CEO."

"Mark, if we let you pick the staff, there would be no staff," said Chris. "And as for friends, if you actually went out and made some yourself, I'd be open to a conversation about that too."

"Okay," said Mark. "I'm leaving now." He turned towards the door and added pointedly, "I'll see you later."

*

In the end Chris did what was usually smartest with Mark; took the path of less resistance and called through to his office once he'd arranged to meet up with Wardo.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he stops talking to me after this, too," he said on their way into the restaurant.

Wardo did look somewhat betrayed when Chris sat down opposite him and Mark signaled the waiter for another setting. 

Chris shrugged apologetically as Mark sat down, one hand in his lap and one on the table in front of him.

"It's not your birthday," said Mark, leaning forward over his splayed fingers. 

Eduardo furrowed his brow but said nothing. 

"Obviously I know that because we used to be best friends and I know when your birthday is," said Mark. 

Eduardo directed a wonderfully sceptical look somewhere to the left of Mark's face. 

Mark either ignored it or missed it entirely. "You're not dating anyone, as far as I know-- and I checked, it's really not that difficult-- so clearly that means you're not married either, and probably don't have any anniversaries to be celebrating. You haven't recently had a baby. Or ever, for that matter."

"Mark," hissed Chris. 

Mark shrugged. "I'm just trying to be clear," he said. "I have to get back to the offices."

Chris watched him go and turned helplessly back to Eduardo. "He has a very unique definition of 'clear,' you may remember."

"Yeah," said Eduardo, frowning after Mark. 

"Please don't sue us again," said Chris, only half-joking.

Eduardo snorted and took a long sip of his water. 

*

" _Mark_ ," said Chris, barrelling into his office when he came back from lunch. Thankfully Mark wasn't wired in, looking sourly down at a pile of papers from HR instead. 

"Yeah," said Mark, glancing up. 

"Were you _trying_ to antagonise Wardo, or did you just not realise? I can never tell." He folded his arms.

"I was consolidating," said Mark vaguely, looking back down at his desk. 

"You were-- " said Chris. "Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not," said Mark. 

Chris sighed. "I love my job," he said. "I do. I love my job."

Mark glanced at him, confused. "I know," he said.

Chris rolled his eyes. He pointed at Mark as he backed out to the door. "Illegal activity to an absolute minimum," he said. 

"I do actually know how to run a company," said Mark. 

*

"What I want to know," said Dustin later, "Is how Mark managed to keep doing something so monumentally out of character for so long without us realising."

"I ordered everything through a different IP address," said Mark. "One you aren't routinely hacking."

Dustin jumped to his feet and pointed. "I _knew_ you weren't sleeping with Chris!"

"Uh," said Chris. "Excuse me?"

Dustin shook his arm vehemently at Mark. "Last week he ordered a pile of sex toys, only he had them gift wrapped and addressed to you."

" _What_ ," said Chris. 

Mark smirked. "They should be arriving this week sometime," he said. 

"Mark," said Chris. 

"What?" said Mark. "Dustin should know better than to try hacking my computer. I'm well within my rights to fuck with him if he's stupid enough to do it."

"Hey," said Dustin. "Clearly there _was_ something going on we should have known about."

"And yet you didn't," said Mark in a smug tone of superior finality, folding his arms. 

"Okay, all complaints about the monumental waste of time that is you two fucking with each other during office hours aside," said Chris, "Which we will revisit later, by the way, _Dustin_ \-- "

"-- Hey, I was acting in the interests of all of us, okay, he-- "

"-- Mark, you really need to stop using the internet to try to get Wardo to speak to you."

Mark blinked like the thought hadn't even occurred to him. "But," he said, "Assuming your alternative is to talk to him, how am I supposed to do that if he won't _talk to me?_ "

"Mark," said Chris. "You of all people should know that Wardo isn't made of stone. Especially now that he's here in person. So go and talk at him until you can talk to him."

Dustin snorted. 

Mark glared at him and then said, "You know I'm not-- the least antagonistic when I'm talking."

"You're a walking faux pas," said Chris. "But Wardo always had a weird immunity to it."

Mark furrowed his brows. "Wardo's the least immune," he said. "Clearly." He waved a hand, presumably to indicate the entire situation and the past leading up to it. 

Chris dropped his forehead onto his palm. "Just go, Mark," he said. "You can thank me later."

Mark folded his arms, lips pursed. 

"Dustin's locked the door to your office," said Chris. "So you might as well."

Mark looked over his shoulder at Dustin. 

Dustin waved the key, grinning widely. 

"I can fire you," said Mark. "I can fire both of you." He looked back at Chris. 

"Yeah," said Chris. "Okay, sure."

"I want you to know," said Mark, "That I'm not happy with the level of respect for authority around here. Specifically my authority. I'm bringing it up at the next staff meeting."

"That threat would bear more weight if you'd been to more than one meeting in the last two and a half years," said Chris absently. 

"I'm still CEO," said Mark. 

"We know," said Dustin consolingly. 

"Fuck you," said Mark, stalking out of the office. 

*

"I thought you said you'd talk to Mark," said Wardo, sinking into Chris's guest chair. 

"I did," said Chris, blinking across at him. 

Wardo raised an eyebrow.

"Well," Chris amended, "Inasmuch as you can talk to Mark and he actually listens."

Wardo sighed. 

"Why?" added Chris belatedly. 

"The whole getting him to stop sending gifts thing? Didn't work so well."

"He's." Chris frowned. "He's still sending your employees gifts? Christ, I'm sorry, Wardo, I-- "

"He's sending me gifts," said Wardo. 

"I thought-- I thought you said that didn't work," said Chris. "He gave up on that."

Wardo waved a hand. "You know the way Mark thinks isn't so different from the way Mark codes. It's not about giving up on the method entirely-- it's about honing it til it works."

"How-- " Chris tilted his head. "How exactly do you hone the continued giving of gifts?"

"Apparently," said Wardo, "It's now a thing to celebrate that I'm not married."

Chris snorted out a laugh and coughed to cover it when Wardo looked decidedly unamused. 

"Seriously," said Wardo. "I know it's not-- I know it's hard to get Mark to do anything he doesn't want to, but if you could get him to stop, I'd. I'd really appreciate it."

"Yeah," said Chris. "I can't make any promises, clearly, but. I'll try."

"Thanks," said Wardo. He stood to leave. 

"Hey," said Chris. 

Wardo stopped. 

Chris shrugged. "Just, I don't know, I get that it's none of my-- but. He really is trying, I think. You couldn't-- I don't know, you couldn't try talking to him? Even just to tell him to back off?"

"You know Mark would only take that as encouragement," said Wardo. 

"Yeah," said Chris. "But." He shrugged again. 

Wardo sighed, carded a hand through his hair. 

"I know he's trying," he said. "But I can't-- he's still Mark. It'll just happen all over again."

"Maybe," said Chris. He nodded. "He never really tried before, though, did he?"

Wardo paused. After a long, silent moment, he said, "You want to grab a drink tonight? My shout."

"Sure," said Chris. 

*

Wardo bought the first round of drinks, as promised. Chris half expected him to come back with scotch, or whiskey, or something befitting the cut of his suit, still precise despite the damp fall of night and the shadows under his eyes. Instead he returned from the bar with two beers, Beck's like they used to drink in their Harvard dorms, like Chris still bought every now and then and like he knew Mark kept stocked in his fridge (along with Red Bull and week-old takeout and not much else). 

He wondered why Wardo bought it, whether he just liked it that much, or something else. 

"Thanks," was all he said though, tapping the neck of his bottle against Wardo's before drinking. 

"I'm sorry I don't talk to you guys as much," said Wardo. "You and Dustin. As much as I should."

"Hey." Chris shrugged. "You live in Singapore, you're busy, so are we, and Mark-- I get it."

"Yeah," said Wardo. "Still. I miss it, sometimes, you know?"

"It?" said Chris. 

"Harvard," said Wardo. "Or really, just when things were easy."

"Mark?" said Chris. 

Wardo's mouth curled, half smiling, half not. "It's easier to remember he's an asshole when he's sending me 'congratulations, you're not married' gifts." 

"Yeah," said Chris. He took a slow pull of his beer and then lowered the bottle to spin between his hands. "Hey, remember the Great Calc Protest of '02?" 

"You mean Mark's one-man attempt to subvert the _system_ ," Wardo punctuated it with an impressive layer of sarcasm and an eye-roll, "By posting the final online?"

"Yeah," said Chris, grinning.

"Mark," said Wardo, snorting derisively, "Wouldn't know a legitimate cause if it slapped him in the face."

"I don't know." Chris tilted his head. "I think maybe he's starting to get the idea."

Wardo said nothing, fiddling with the label on his beer. 

"Anyway," said Chris, "Thank God you stopped him before he could. Didn't you threaten to call his mom?"

Wardo rolled his eyes. "I did call his mom. I had her on speed-dial in case of emergencies."

Chris laughed. "Well, Mark always had a weird selectivism when it came to authority."

"Yeah," said Wardo. He was silent for a long moment, eyes directed at the table but soft, distant, and then he blinked sharply and said, "So. Tell me about you and Dustin. Or were the loaded looks I picked up on during the two minutes we were all in your office just a figment of my imagination?"

Chris sighed, long-suffering and frankly not so hot on talking about _that_ , but he figured Wardo deserved the break, and allowed him the subject-change.

*

"No," said Mark into the phone, "I want the card to say 'congratulations, you're _not_ having a baby.' It's not a difficult concept."

He listened to the response with barely (or okay, not at all) concealed disdain. 

"I don't think you're paid to tell me what you think is traditional," said Mark. "Or what you think at all, for that matter."

He listened again, and said, "Fine, as long as it says 'not,'" and hung up. 

Chris cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. 

"What," said Mark. 

"'Congratulations, you're _not_ having a baby?'" said Chris. 

"I think I'm going to have to hack into their orders database to make sure they get it right," said Mark. "The woman on the phone didn't sound very efficient. Or intelligent."

"Mark," said Chris, pressing the heel of his palm to his temple. 

"You said you didn't want to know," said Mark. 

"I know," said Chris. "I still don't. I'm just starting to worry this may affect more than just your relationship with Wardo."

"How," said Mark blankly. 

"Did you or did you not just insult a salesperson on the phone?" said Chris. 

Mark rolled his eyes. "She was being condescending," he said. "Salespeople aren't supposed to be condescending. If my comments make her think twice about it then all I did was help."

"Fine," said Chris. "I suppose my input on your relationship with Wardo will go just as unheeded?"

"Yes," said Mark, settling dismissively in front of his computer.

*

"Mark," said Dustin, barrelling into Mark's office just as Mark was lifting his headphones up from around his neck, "Mark, we need to talk to you before you ruin everything ever."

Mark sighed, dropping the headphones after a palpably long moment of consideration. 

Chris came in behind Dustin at a more leisurely-- or rather, more professional-- pace. 

"I'm really starting to question my life choices," said Mark. "Obviously not the Facebook thing. But you guys. Mainly Dustin."

"Hey," said Dustin. "You'd waste away without me and you know it."

"You have me confused with someone else," said Mark. "Someone who's never met you."

"That doesn't even make sense," said Dustin. 

"Sure it does," said Mark. "It means that anyone who has met you would waste away in sheer protest of your presence." He indicated to himself. "Case in point."

"Chris," said Dustin, putting a hand over his heart, "Quick, say something nice. Mark's being a particularly bad example of an employer today. Not to mention a _friend_."

Mark rolled his eyes without taking them off of his laptop screen. It was pretty impressive.

Chris said, "Mark, it's just that we think you're maybe not going about this Wardo thing in, uh, precisely the right way."

"It's fine," said Mark, still not looking up. 

"Okay," said Chris, "But you're sending him gifts-- which didn't work the first time, by the way-- that aren't exactly conveying the most positive or...apologetic message."

Mark blinked. He looked genuinely perplexed. "I'm not trying to apologise," he said. 

Chris glanced at Dustin. "Okay," he said slowly. 

"I'm trying to get Wardo to talk to me again," said Mark. 

"Right," said Dustin. "Again, maybe not-- "

"You're the ones who said that Wardo liked the way I approach things."

"Uh," said Dustin. "Mark-- "

"Look," said Chris. "All we're saying is that everyone has their limits. Even with-- even with things they like. Sometimes especially with things they like."

"I know," said Mark blankly. 

Dustin opened his mouth. Chris spoke over him. "Okay," he said. "I'm not-- we know it wasn't just you, Mark. That's why we're still here. Just be careful."

"Sure," said Mark, pulling his headphones on. 

*

"Mark?" Chris blinked. "What-- what are you doing?"

Mark glanced up, then back down at his hands. "I would have thought it was fairly obvious," he said.

"But-- you're putting on a tie."

Mark didn't dignify the facetiousness of the statement with a response. 

"Okay," said Chris. "Why?"

"Is it your goal to make me reconsider your continued employment?" said Mark. "It's for the fundraiser."

"You haven't been to a fundraiser since Dustin and I dragged you to that Children in Need one three years ago and you made the organiser cry," said Chris. 

"She thought I was IM-ing," said Mark. "As if I'd use AOL. I was fixing a bug in the end of year updates. It was kind of important. Who has a fundraiser so close to Christmas anyway?"

"She was an eighty-three year old woman!" said Chris loudly. "She wouldn't know code from crackers and it's not your job to educate her. And even so, you were _on a laptop_ in the middle of her speech."

"I tried to tell you the bug needed fixing," said Mark. 

"And Dustin told you the team here had it under control."

Mark made a face. 

Chris rubbed at his temples. "This is so far beside the point," he muttered. 

Mark raised a _you brought it up_ eyebrow. 

"My point," said Chris, "Is _why_ are you coming to this fundraiser?"

"That's more a question than a point," said Mark, "And I would have thought that was obvious too."

"You." Chris stopped, and sighed. "Wardo. Of course."

"It's the last stop on his itinerary before he flies out," said Mark. "I didn't have time to organise another gift, or. So." 

He gestured jerkily to himself and finished tying the tie, grimacing as the knot settled in close under the hollow of his throat. 

"Mark," said Chris quietly. 

"Relax," said Mark, rolling his eyes. "I don't have anything planned."

"That's not," said Chris. He shook his head. "Look, just, if you need us to do-- or say, or whatever-- anything, _ask_ , okay?"

Mark blinked. "I do," he said. "You work for me."

Chris stared at him. "Seriously?" he said. 

"Mainly I was trying to avoid the awkward moment," said Mark, "But sure."

Chris shook his head again. "Well, we're here," he said. "We'll be there, too."

"I'm going now," said Mark pointedly. 

*

Mark sunk into his seat at the Facebook table, swallowing the last mouthful of one beer and twisting open another. 

Dustin raised an eyebrow. "Classy," he said. 

Mark ignored him. "Next time I'm going to hack the drink supply orders," he said, frowning down at the Founders KBS in his hand. 

"At least I'm pretending to be civilised," said Dustin, eyeing Mark's beer.

"I reject your parameters of civility," said Mark absently, taking a long pull from his bottle.

Dustin rolled his eyes and curled his fingers around his glass. "Hey, hey, Chris," he said, grinning gleefully, "Imagine if we let Mark organise a fundraiser. What comes below 'casual' on the dress code? Or would you have to specify sweatpants and sandals?"

"There are much more efficient ways to raise money than elitist assholes showing off in the name of charity," said Mark derisively. 

"Meaning if we let Mark organise a fundraiser, there would be no fundraiser," said Chris. 

"Ah," said Dustin, nodding wisely, "The dangers of leaving Mark in charge of anything but Facebook, whose best kept secret is that it runs on nothing but caffeine and code."

Mark didn't respond, eyes roving restlessly over the crowd. 

"Can you see him yet?" said Dustin, leaning forward. 

Mark shot him a mildly disturbed, mainly irritated look, and said nothing. 

Dustin sighed. "I just want love to blossom. Chris keeps spurning me and _someone_ should have it."

"Dustin," said Chris wearily. 

"Do you think I don't love you?" said Dustin, putting both hands over his heart. 

"I think you live to make my life ten times louder and more ridiculous than it needs to be," said Chris, rolling his eyes. "Does that count?"

"It totally counts," said Dustin. 

"Fantastic," said Chris dryly, looking away just as Mark swallowed the remainder of his beer in one long, determined pull and set the bottle down hard on the table, standing to go, Chris assumed, for another. Only, " _Dude_ ," hissed Dustin, elbowing Chris hard in the ribs. 

"Dustin, what the fuck-- " He stopped when he saw where Dustin was pointing.

Mark was stalking purposefully over to Eduardo where he'd clearly spotted him leaning against the bar, drink cradled loosely in his palm. They watched as Mark moved right in and kissed Wardo without hesitation or warning, curling a hand around the back of his neck to tug him down and kissing him hard. 

Chris gaped; a mirror, he suspected, of Dustin beside him. 

"Do you think he's finally snapped?" whispered Dustin. 

Chris honestly didn't know, and honestly wouldn't be surprised. His eyes slid to where Mark's free hand was shaking by his side the way it did when he'd had too many Red Bulls and not enough sleep, when his eyes lit up with a fresh string of code and he didn't have a keyboard under his fingers, when he came up with ideas like _taking the entire social experience of college and putting it online_. He clenched and unclenched it, only a heartbeat of space away from Wardo's hip but not touching, simultaneously entirely certain and almost subconsciously not. 

When he pulled back-- because he'd come to his senses or just needed to breathe, Chris couldn't tell-- Wardo was staring, mouth open and slick and outraged. 

"Mark," he said, loud enough for Chris and Dustin to hear, "What the _hell_ \-- "

"You're talking to me." Mark shrugged. 

"I." Wardo stopped and scrubbed an incredulous hand through his air, still staring. 

Then he started laughing.

"Uh," said Mark slowly. "Wardo?" 

Chris glanced warily at Dustin. 

Dustin shrugged. 

Wardo laughed harder, tipping his head back and exposing the pale, soft-looking stretch of his throat. 

"Okay," said Mark, with the lick of confused and irritated that always laced his voice when any social interaction he was involved in ventured outside the realm of textbook, "I don't-- I don't know what this means, so when you're finished please let me know."

Wardo calmed a little, breathing hard. He rubbed at his eyes. "Jesus, Mark," he said. 

Mark blinked at him. "Am I allowed to speak to you now?"

"I think that's been kind of irrelevant for you this entire time," said Wardo. 

"Yeah," said Mark unapologetically. 

Wardo hitched up the corner of his mouth. "I don't know whether or not you did that on purpose," he said, "But I think you managed to hit the nail right on the head."

Mark cut his eyes to the side. "This conversation is making less sense as it progresses," he said, "Which I'm told is not generally how they're supposed to go."

Wardo breathed out, setting his drink onto the edge of the bar. Then he shrugged. "I think in the end I was either going to hit you, or-- well." He waved a hand between them. 

"You mean if living on the other side of the world and pretending I don't exist didn't work out," said Mark. 

Wardo tilted his head. "Turns out you make that pretty difficult to do," he said. 

Mark's mouth curled in a smug smirk. 

"That is not a good thing," said Wardo. 

"I would contest that," said Mark. 

Wardo looked at him silently for a long moment. "Yeah," he said at last, softly. He stepped closer. "Hey," he said, lifting a hand to Mark's cheek. "I-- "

"Wardo," said Mark. His voice was a weird combination of pained and breathless. "Can we just-- leave it-- all that, you know-- there? And maybe just work on it not happening again? I'm, uh, I'm still not great at communicating or sleeping or eating or being away from the office in general, but I want-- I want-- I need you to be talking to me. I hope you get that this time."

Wardo bit down on his lip. "I," he said. "Yeah. Yeah, Mark. Okay. I just need to know-- "

"You." Mark pulled his lower lip between his teeth, looking somewhere to Wardo's left. "You just, you used to be the only one who never cared that I was-- me, and then. Then it was like all of a sudden you did, and you stopped getting what I-- why I needed to do things that way."

Wardo breathed out, long and loud. "Okay," he said at last. "Okay. I get that, Mark. That-- I'm sorry, okay, I should have-- I should have been there. I should have listened."

"Yeah," said Mark. 

"But you-- to be fair, okay, you didn't tell me this."

"I did," said Mark, glancing up at him. "I did, I-- I tried. When you came to Palo Alto."

Wardo stared at him. "I-- "

"You were angry," said Mark. "I get that."

"I don't want to." Wardo stopped. "I don't want to do this all over again. I just-- you need to know that it's not okay, the way you did it. Even if I screwed up, you. That wasn't okay."

"Yeah," said Mark.

"Okay," said Wardo. 

Mark looked at him. "Okay?"

"Yeah." Wardo shrugged, half-smiled. "Okay."

Dustin leaned in close to Chris's side. "I don't know whether to cry or check myself into the psych ward," he whispered. "How is everyone else not watching this?"

The room around them really was almost unacceptably busy. 

Chris shrugged. "They will be if they start making out again," he said. 

He watched Mark move in closer to Wardo and say something else, quiet enough that Wardo had to duck his head to hear it. 

"Goddamnit," said Dustin when Wardo smiled, small but warm, "What did he say?"

"Shh," said Chris, trying and mostly failing to be subtle about straining towards them. "This is kind of rude," he said belatedly. 

Dustin scoffed. "Wardo, at least, is fully aware they're in public," he said. 

"So," Wardo was saying, his smile turning to a smirk, "Presumably I'm allowed to kiss you now, right?"

"Wardo, if you really don't get that yet, I-- "

This time Wardo was the one to surprise Mark, ducking in to kiss him slow and thorough, one hand cradling the back of his skull, the other curving still a little hesitant over his hip.

Mark mumbled, "This is-- this is good, right?" as Dustin did a kind of shuffling leapfrog manoeuvre over Chris to hear more clearly.

Wardo, catching sight of Dustin between the ends of Mark's curls and his shoulder, said, "Uh, Mark, we're in public. Everyone's staring."

Mark pulled back enough to speak clearly, pointedly. "Wardo. I'm going to kiss you again now."

He pushed up to do just that, and Wardo, flushing under Mark's hand splayed over his cheek, said, "Yeah. Yeah, this is good."


End file.
